


Lest I Fall For Her

by TheDarkDrag0n



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: ? - Freeform, Chrobin to the max, Don't know if I have enough patience to make this a slow burn fic, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gotta Go Fast, Hijinks & Shenanigans, How Slow Can You Go, Inigo tries to be cool, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, it never works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkDrag0n/pseuds/TheDarkDrag0n
Summary: Lucina hasn't ever visited the notion of romance. Frankly, it scares her. Ergo, when tensions arise between her and a certain unlucky philanderer, she doesn't quite know how to conduct herself. Some F!RobinxChrom on the side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this feels kind of rushed! I'm just setting the stage for the fluffy fluff to come

“Love, calm your temper a bit; these tent walls won’t constrain your words.”

“How can I be calm?” Despite his agitation, the timbre of Chrom’s voice lowered. His rebellion rested instead as an exasperated shadow of Robin; she kept her mirth carefully masked, nodding sagely and without expression. 

“Robin, you didn’t see him—the way he was just upon her, like a vulture would a carcass—overeager! It’s too much! Had Lucy not pleaded honor, those heinous fingers of his would be well down Minerva’s gullet.”

At that, she could not contain her laughter any longer. The ferocity of Chrom’s paternal safeguard and the fact that their equally ferocious daughter had toppled over in a fit of tickling and giggles was too much. The outburst went on well over the span of Chrom’s patience; he huffed and trundled over to the cot, planting himself beside Robin with a less than threatening bounce. 

“It may seem an amusing jest now, but it was not a pleasing sight to fall upon. My daughter pushed down, the clown of the army hovering over her? It does not sit well with me, not at all.”

Seeing how truly conflicted the prince was, Robin moved closer and circled her arms around his chest in a comforting embrace. “You are a good father, Chrom. Not only have you taught our daughter to fight, but you have taught her to be gentle and with discernment. Lucina is not daft; she can protect herself.”

Hand shadowing hers, Chrom leaned into the softness of the envelopment. “So it is easy to say, and yet my heart stirs achingly.”

She kissed his temple. “I can make it stir for another reason if you wish to be distracted.”

“Oh, dear gods.”

The royal couple jolted out of their almost-kiss, eyes snapping toward the tent front. Lucina shifted guiltily from one foot to another, the picture of embarrassed. Surprisingly enough, Chrom recovered first; he crossed his arms over his chest, looking on Lucina with the stern expression of one about to unleash a mighty lecture. 

“Lucina.”

She came to then, pulling herself up into the regal stature of one with practiced confidence, but Robin knew better. The hand on her sheathed Falchion shook minutely, and she worried at her bottom lip.

“Father. I would like to explain the situation you happened upon, as well as ask that you revoke the orders sending Inigo into the front lines… without a weapon.”

“Chrom!”

Robin earned a sheepish glance before it shifted back into impassivity. “Explain what happened, honestly, and I will think about it.”

“Very well,” she sighed in response, steeling herself. Letting her eyes flicker between her parents, assessing her mother’s amusement, her father’s poorly hidden throes, she recounted the moment.

“I know it may be difficult to believe the womanizer of the army had no business you might conclude beyond t-tickling me,” Chrom almost growled at her maidenly blush, “I can assure you that it was partly my own fault. Inigo was simply merry-making; it was my glum demeanor that caused the mishap. He only wanted to evoke a smile, not a trifle with you, Father.”

Knowing both her daughter and Inigo by the point, Robin wasn’t worried by the exchange. The fact that the mercenary had shown a shockingly unromantic interest in Lucina made her curious. There had to a stealthy development going between the two that even they themselves hadn’t noticed.

Chrom didn’t seem so invested; the poor philanderer conveniently tripping on their daughter remained his focal point.

“No matter. He vies for your attentions, does he not? Seeking out my daughter unceremoniously—I’ll have him tied to a damned stake—”

“I believe that’s quite enough,” Robin interceded; Lucina relaxed under her playful wink. The former placed an elegant hand on her husband’s thigh, angling her body to look him properly in the eye. Chrom stilled, allowing himself to be calmed. 

“We’ll discuss this properly together, yes?” At his reluctant nod, Robin dismissed their waiting daughter with graciousness. “Lucy, if you wouldn’t mind, we will see you later. And, with our wonderful prince’s permission, tell Inigo he needn’t worry about becoming Risen food on the front lines.”

“For now, that is.”

“It’s settled for now, then!” Robin clapped her hands and smiled broadly at the young princess. Knowing her brilliant tactician of a mother already had this metaphorical battle undertaken, Lucina relieved herself after a brief parting gesture.

“Don’t think I don’t know what it is you’re doing.”

She blinked innocently, laying a hand on Chrom’s arm. “My, I haven’t a clue as to—Naga, have you been working out? But you are looking so well in shape.”

“As a matter of fact, I have—blast it, Robin! Enough with your hijinks!”

The banter had already had its affect on the tactician, however; she giggled at Chrom’s vain attempts at sobering her, and even then he was fighting back a chuckle of his own at her infectious laughter.

“If I knew better, I’d have thrown you out of the tent and consulted Lucina myself.”

“Yes, well, this is an egalitarian marriage if I recall correctly.”

“Funny. Seems more matriarchal to me.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing, sweet. I will admit that my anger has subsided…for the moment. There will be no oaths to hold me back the next instance I set eyes on that scoundrel.”

Though the notion itself was a bit comical, Robin allowed herself to be more rational and rebuked the thoughtless statement. “You’re irritated still, and with reason, love. But could you imagine how Olivia would feel hearing this? We both know her son has more in him than you walking in on a poorly timed moment.”

The fog in Chrom’s mind cleared at that, and his head bowed in submission. “You’re right. It isn’t right of me to behave like this, especially when Lucy has come before me twice to plead her cause….”

Robin draped herself over his shoulders, looking on fondly as he mulled over it. “Any good father would be upset on his daughter’s behalf. But this Lucina is much older than the one home; she is almost our age, and can uphold her own honor.”

The truth was always a bit jarring. The Ylissean prince blinked and nodded slowly, running calloused fingers over the arms round his neck. “Though I know what you say to be true, I will not withdraw any counsel, at least. Different timeline or no, Lucina is my daughter. Our daughter.”

Appeased in the direction the conversation had gone, Robin deflated against his back, face falling into the warm skin of his throat. Aware of their much needed isolation from the rest of the Shepherd’s, Chrom stirred at the soft lips on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, all other thoughts flushed out by a sudden burst of affection for his wife. 

“We are finally alone,” she echoed his thoughts, pressing a sweet kiss into his skin. 

“Indeed,” he intoned darkly, already pushing her down onto their shared cot.

——

The air was cooling and the sun had begun to sink into the horizon, casting a mountainous silhouette over the land. Everything in the campsite was peaceful; Shepherds meandered about and conversed quietly, creating an intrinsic moment of camaraderie. Lucina etched it into the timeless part of her memory, almost forgetting the man at her side for a moment.

“Oh, what did he say, Lucina? What did he say?” Inigo fretted closely at the young Exalt’s heels, desperation coloring his voice. Although his fraught was humorous even to her, Lucina relented once they were out of earshot.

“Don’t worry about being on the front lines or without a weapon. Mother was there when I entered their tent, and you should be grateful for it. Father was livid.”

An angry Chrom was not a pleasant Chrom; Inigo winced, silently thanking Naga that the pitying tactician had been on hand. Otherwise, the Exalt might’ve hung him publicly by his, ah… nether regions, never you mind the law of the land. It felt like open season on his ass around her father these days.

“I’m grateful for both you and Robin, and as such, I must apologize for behaving in such an uncivilized manner with you.”

Blindsided by his genuine conviction, all Lucina could do was blink and respond with a flat, “It’s okay.” 

And so the turmoil inside of her heart ensued.

The Ylisse heir and dancer had know each other for a long time—since birth, actually. The Shepherds always remained close to Chrom’s heart and his side. Lucina grew alongside the other young Shepherds and, ergo, knew almost all of them like the back of her own hand. One of the few who managed to remain an enigma just so happened to be the man shrieking and jumping away from an equally startled toad, jostling her shoulder hard enough to send them a-tumbling.

“Crivens, Inigo!” Lucina barked as well as she could from under his substantial weight, “Get off me. Must you be so damned heavy?”

Wounded and thoroughly mortified, Inigo rushed to his feet blushingly, pulling her up with him. “I can hardly help it. You’ve seen my brute of a father; I’ve only to thank him for inheriting that devilishly muscular body of his.”

“…Okay?”

The thought of Chrom’s personal retainer and friend being ‘devilishly muscular’ was enough of a disturbing image to chasten Lucina. She contented herself with a neutral silence as they neared her tent, but companionable as it was, her mind returned to the frolicking dandy at her side time again. What was that tightness in her chest when Inigo’s hand enveloped hers, hoisting her up and close enough to feel the warmth pouring out of him? And these thoughts in themselves; of what nature were they? Why did the prospect of them parting irritate her, leaden her steps the closer they got to departure?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Well, I was wondering why you are still accompanying me. My tent is but a horse length away, Inigo… and all of the bears in a ten mile radius of here are in the stewing pots.”

“What man would I be, letting a fair maiden such as yourself—okay, okay, don’t look at me like that! To be quite honest, I’m enjoying your company. It isn’t often that we walk together like this, not anymore. Oh, wait a moment, would you? Severa, you elegant snake, but aren’t you a sight tonight—”

“Pray to the gods, Inigo, for you are anything but a man!” 

“Took the words right out of my mouth, Princess. Shut up and go be a fop somewhere else, would you?” Severa snapped, putting the icing on the highly offensive cake. The girls stomped off in opposite directions, leaving a very confused Inigo in their wake. Resigned and trying his best not to linger on the stinging aftermath of two rejections, he was just beginning to set off into the wood when a rustle from above vaguely stirred his senses.

“…Women. Rough night, huh, Chastity?”

The voice seemingly came from straight out of nowhere, startling Inigo out of his wits. It took another slurp and waft of something sweet to pinpoint his gaze on a tree not ten feet from where he stood. 

“I still find I rather dislike that nickname,” Inigo grumbled, patting imaginary dust off his trousers. Gaius grinned around a lollipop from his perch, looking the picture of comfort.

“Really? I’d say it’s my best one yet.” The candy thief preened in the latter’s discomfort, eyes a little too keen for his own good. Gaius was one that had managed to wriggle into Robin’s inner circle what with his quick wits and odd skills, but there was a hidden aspect of the former adversary that got under Inigo’s hide. His intrusiveness? Perceptiveness? Stealthiness?

The redhead popped the treat out of his mouth, gazed at it as if pondering his own existence, and threw it over his shoulder before retrieving another from one of his many pockets. Ah, that’s it. Inigo thought, cupping his chin thoughtfully. That wily bastard throws away women like those lollipops.

All the while Inigo silently placed his rather hypocritical judgment on him, Gaius’ shrewd green eyes never left the dancer. He smiled suddenly, and although his lips swelled ridiculously around it, the simper left Inigo unsettled.

“Y’know, you ruined my chance tonight. I was thinking about talking to ol’ Blue Jr. there, and even as she is wont to be alone by this time, here you are…. Also, you better watch who you flap those gums at, Chastity. Sev doesn’t need protecting, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do something about you.”

“Gods, is every father here after me?”

“Lots of skirts around here have daddy’s. Watch which ones you chase, and you’re good.”

Tucking away that little nugget, Inigo revisited the jokester’s aforementioned comment. “Why do you need Lucina?”

Gaius waggled his lollipop at the younger, nosy man, the faints traces of a smirk playing on his lips. “She seems a bit down these days. I was thinking of giving her a good time tonight, a break from all that brooding….”

The rest of it was lost in the boil of Inigo’s blood, some of it rushing to his cheeks, the rest dispersing in an angry tide throughout his body. Good time…? Lucina wasn’t one for late night visitors, was she? The thought fired his soul; despite knowing not where these powerful emotion originated from, Inigo released them in a rare moment of disparity.

“Enough, Gaius. Might I ask you to look back on your own advise? Lucina might not be a notch you want under your belt.”

“Have you forgotten the good favor of my position? I doubt there would be much resistance should I formally court Lucina. Now, Chastity, if you will excuse me,” he dismissed Inigo easily.

The tree squealed in retort as Gaius leaped to the ground, landing with a soft thump. He mocked saluted Inigo in passing, his feet pointed in the direction of Lucina’s personal tent. Inigo swallowed the ugly knot forming in his throat, fighting savagely to retain that princely smile, but the second the retched man called her sweet name, the gates were bashed open.

His fingers curled, notching his fist before releasing a nasty sucker-punch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I've had this sitting in my drafts for a while and was trying to crank out a lot of material when I just figured I just could post this. My chapters won't be very long, but this way it'll be easier for me to stay motivated to write more in smaller increments rather than not at all. 
> 
> Thanks for your comments and kudos!

It felt so right and heroic, especially when Lucina peeked her head out of her tent in pursuit of the racket. Right and heroic for but a second; Inigo lapsed at her reappearance and the punch sent him sideways into Gaius’ chest, knocking them both to the ground. They sprawled with identically pained growls, and the blunder had immediate affects on Inigo’s cheeks.

“Naga Almighty. You might just steal Stumbles’ name with all of these balancing acts of yours, Chastity.” Gaius rolled into the fall and stood now dusting himself off, maddeningly cool. The smooth recovery left Inigo more addled on top of Lucina’s concern; the ability to form coherent words failed him as she rushed between the two men, garbed in flurry and worry.

“What is it with you today, Inigo? I’d thought you were more nimble on your feet than this.” She offered a hand, but Inigo and his pride couldn’t accept it. Why was he in such a state of disarray? And how could his footing, which normally could carry him through effortless pirouettes, suddenly flop in the span of two hours?

He’d spent too long ruminating on his two left feet; Gaius smirked and sidled up next to Lucina, taking her extended hand. His lips brushed the elegant, tapered fingers, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Inigo was damned sure that he received a smug glance. 

“My apologies for causing such a disruption at this hour, Your Blueness. Our good friend here must have been enraptured by your beauty and fell over himself in a fit of passion, is all. Inigo, you are quite finished, yes? That settles that, then. Let’s get you all snuggly as a buggly in your tent, shall we?”

Lucina frowned minutely at that, removing herself from the clutches of the slimy ophidian and looking on Inigo instead. Her eyes searched for answers in his own, and for that discretion he was grateful; with renewed vigor, Inigo sprang to his feet, all smiles and princely charm once again.

“Nay, Gaius; I am in need of her guidance tonight. Might you spare us this time and seek her ensuingly?”

His plead was for naught, as the bandit repositioned himself so that his lips were close at the princess’s ear. Whatever he said made her shift uncomfortably and avert eye contact with Inigo, further unsettling him. Didn’t the man already have a wife, the beautiful Cordelia at that? How brutish. Though they may not be betrothed nor inclined toward each other just yet, he knows of their ravishing love from the future, grew up with the embodiment of it—Severa (that sweet, terrible snake). Yet he still runs amok with whichever woman he pleases.

Inigo was saved from vocalizing any of the accusations he brooded on, for Lucina initiated a backwards retreat. “I appreciate the sentiment, but if there is no ill conduct between you two, I’ll be returning to my tent. Inigo, may we speak on the morrow.” He could only nod weakly in response as the curtain of shadow passed over her, leaving the men alone again.

Great, Inigo thought to himself bitterly. She thinks me even more a fool—one to engage in squalor, with brigands! Trifles and increasing worry rolled around Inigo’s insides, unable to be squelched or stifled, not while his object of blame stood too short a distance away. Despite his endeavor to rile Gaius up, the redheaded thief remained passive enough and ended their staring contest with a huff of a sigh, hand at the base of his neck.

“I suppose I shall check up on that slithering Severa. Ah, I wouldn’t do that, dear Chastity.”

Inigo glared at him, but still heeded the warning, paused mid-stride.

“Women need their time alone, y’know. It’s when they really think. And, if I’m recalling correctly, that mini-Shepherd has had lambs bleating at her all day long.” 

Even if it vexed him so, he had to admit that Gaius had a knack for interpreting people’s moods and good graces. 

It was a good chunk to chew on. Not only had Lucina been occupied the entire day, but just as she was readying herself to settle down, Inigo intruded on her moment of privacy. Furthermore, he contributed to whatever may have been burdening her, sucked even her parents into the mix. All for a moments jest, one that held more discrepancy than anything at this point. And yet, as Inigo mulled over this, the desire to see that brilliant smile of hers again won out, even if it meant meeting Risen without a sword or shield, Chrom’s righteous anger at his foot—though he’d like to avoid both if possible.

“I shall leave her to collect for wits for now—however. Should I catch you in the act of any further skylarking with Lucy as your target, I will handle you myself!”

Formidable as Gaius was, the dancer refused to lower his hackles, and he silently thanked the gods for inheriting his father’s substantial height and build; the former sized him up and easily dismissed the challenge.

“I don’t want any conflict with the princess’s puppy, so put ‘em down, Cujo. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I did spot a patch of wild sugarcane over here….”

This time Gaius managed to exit without incident, and Inigo was left to gaze yearningly at fastened tent flaps, the adrenaline eking out of him. The only thing he could do for the moment was slink back to his own quarters, sulking the entire way. The charismatic, princely spirit seemed to have fled from him entirely; Inigo felt no desire to cavort with any women on the trek back to his tent, mind intent on replaying Lucina’s retreat and renewing his disappointment each time.

How he hoped Chrom truly would remove his hide from the front lines.


	3. Chapter 3

A cheer erupted from around the multiple campfires, the cumulated noise so loud and forceful it startled a nest of nearby wyverns into flight. The clamor only seemed to fuel the Shepherds’ festive mood; Sully thrust a tankard in the sky as a proposed toast, and Gregor began to drunkenly pound on his chest and roar as the others laughed on. 

Robin weaved her way through comrades, nodding at new recruits and familiar faces on the way to the largest and centermost bonfire. Any fatigue from the rough battle hours earlier disappeared along with any alcohol pulled from inventory, whether it be down the men’s gullet or sloshed around in a drunken clamor. Robin watched as Vaike laughed boomingly, the contents of his tankard falling over Ricken as he tended to the fire.

“What in Naga’s name have you done?” She laughed, seating herself neatly on the log next to her husband. Chrom turned to her at the end of a belly-deep laugh, mirth rich in his eyes. The relaxed nature of it and his similarly-situated companions first took Robin aback; when was the last time Chrom and the others let loose like this? She abandoned shock for their infectious gaiety, doing her best to return the clumsy kiss Chrom aimed at the corner of her mouth.

“I believe tonight was cause for celebration. A little drink won’t hurt anyone… Oh, come on—Vaike, pull Ricken from the fire, would you? Poor stripling’s t’ go up in flames because you can’t contain your ale.”

“Can it, Your Highness. Maybe it’ll finally man him up a little.”

She watched Chrom wince out of the corner of her eye, biting back an incredulous laugh. “I’d like to challenge that sentiment, especially if you’re putting ale in Vaike’s hands.”

“Ah-ha-ha, maybe that wasn’t as good of an idea,” Chrom laughed sheepishly. They fell silent watching the fire, drifting closer by the languid second. The couple’s time together had diminished over the course of the past month; a rest stop at Ylisstol only served Chrom a sea of paperwork, and the task of keeping Risen away from the capitol managed Robin more than she it. This fact had settled over them heavily, and the interlacing of their fingers dispelled the weight in a second. 

“Care for a walk?” Chrom smiled down at her, and she could no longer differentiate the heat of the fire from her own internal flame.

“I would be delighted.”

Their departure was anything but stealthy being smack dab in the middle of the festivities, and an impossibly sober Gaius perked up as they withdrew; Robin counted six helpings of alcohol, and he was still lucid as a mink.

“Going for a stroll? Watch for things that go bump in the night, Blue. I haven’t seen Fredrick’s spawn around… if you catch my drift—”

“Let us be gone, Chrom! I’m feeling quite lightheaded from the smoke, I do believe.” Robin shot the loose-lipped man a glare before ushering Chrom away from camp, letting out a breath once they passed under the canopy of trees. 

“Are you that excited to have me to yourself?” 

In any other circumstance, Robin would have reciprocated that ‘come to hither’ look in an instant, but Gaius’ words had more of an affect on her after she’d noted her daughter’s absence. Not that she didn’t trust Lucina—more like she would rather not happen upon her and Inigo together. In the forest, at night. Alone. It wouldn’t do for her and Chrom’s rare break to be banished to another time in exchange for another episode.

It’s fine, Robin conceded with an inkling of confidence. If I can organize a thousand men on a war path, I can lead my husband through a forest.

“Was it so obvious?” She drifted along on his wind, hyperaware of their surroundings. Roaming fingers found their way up the man’s chest and into the sensitive hairs at the nape of his neck. Chrom preened under her attention; patience was discarded for pent ardor. They were a compressed heap against a nearby tree within seconds, all gasps and murmurs and rustling clothes. Robin’s plan was successfully launched, but she found herself forgetting what was supposed to happen next.

“Gods, but I missed you,” he breathed against her ear, teeth sinking into the lobe and sending a fit of heat through Robin’s scalp. She gasped and buried her hands in his hair as he peppered her neck with short, searing kisses, finally losing herself in the din of passion. He held her securely against the tree with his body; their shared heat felt like it tripled her temperature.

“—I meant to talk to you earlier….”

With impeccable timing, fervor ran away with its tail between its legs; Chrom’s head whipped up, eyes shooting daggers into the dark. Robin cursed herself for getting so carried away and set to rectify her misstep, ignoring Inigo’s stupidly loud voice. He was going to attract a damn horde of Risen, what with the volume of his nervous chatter.

“What is it, love?” 

Without looking at her, he intoned, “I thought I heard Inigo… say, come to think of it, he wasn’t around any of the campfires. Had you seen him?” It took a tense minute until Chrom’s frown faded and he finally turned back, question in his eyes; she took the opportunity and pounced.

“You’ve been much too stressed, Chrom,” Robin purred, internally gagging at herself. She’d seen something like this before, passing in a village. A couple discreetly tucked away in the corner of a building—and though the woman may not have had the most notable or moral origins, the man she draped herself over appeared as if she’d cast a spell over him.

Something similar fell over Chrom’s face, though it was heavy with an intimacy only they shared, one that fanned at the embers of Robin’s almost-lost desire.

“You’re right,” he relented, smiling apologetically. “Naga knows I could do some decompressing. I’ve scarcely had time to do anything but manage Ylissean politics and kill the undead.”

There was a substantial amount of tromping about going on some ways behind Chrom, but he paid no notice, lost in some rumination and the warmth of having his wife so close. The noise continued on for a moment beyond his musings and halted abruptly. A muffled string of curses that sounded suspiciously like their up-and-coming Exalt melted away on a drifting breeze; Robin allowed herself to fully surrender to her Chrom’s embrace, unable to catch the sigh of relief that fell from her lips.

Finally, finally—there was no compromising to be done. The only obligation she had at the moment was to reside in her husband’s arms, a privilege that rarely presented itself in more recent times. And how great it was, his strong arms encircling her, being able to feel so small and wanted and protected.

“Let us retire early,” Chrom whispered into the crown of her hair, his lips a gentle urge. It took no great coaxing; Robin allowed herself to be whisked away, and only briefly did her eyes slide back to the threshold of the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When your mom is da best wingman out there


End file.
